


Just One Night

by crimtastic



Series: Stripes that Bind [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Consent, Dirty Talk, F/M, First Meetings, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Pearl Necklace, Shameless Smut, Slight Breast Play, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-06 06:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20502179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimtastic/pseuds/crimtastic
Summary: Looking for a distraction from her bleak outlook on life, Darcy finds herself in a bar, drinking away her thoughts. The crowd, the noise, the camaraderie... it's perfect. The quiet guy in the corner sending her a glance every so often doesn't hurt either. When he talks to her, invites her over, what harm could that be?After all, it's just one night.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been far too long since I've posted something. This has been sitting, dusty, in my WIP folder for over a year now. I'm apparently unable to resist posting fics for my own birthday. :)
> 
> In full disclosure, this is 2 chapters that kick off a much larger and involved story. The sheer scope of what is on the horizon in this world is rather intimidating, so no promises, but at least the smut will have been shared. Hope y'all enjoy. :)

Darcy ducks into the building, glancing around for a seat. It’s the first bar she’s found after escaping the meeting, and the people milling inside are rowdy, distracting, and perfect. The display of bottles against the back bar is only partially occupied due to all of the tables being full, leaving her the bit of privacy she desires. She walks up to it, sliding onto a backless stool with a sigh. The bartender nods at her in acknowledgement as he finishes pouring a different order. “What’ll you have?”

A round of cheers in the corner of the room cuts over the already loud atmosphere, startling Darcy. She sees a bunch of people in the corner, clinking glasses together and laughing. Taking advantage of the silence, she replies, “Vodka shot, please. Do you know what they’re celebrating?”

The bartender shrugs, making her drink in quick order as he sends them a fleeting glance. “Something about that quiet one. I’ve been too busy to find out,” he says, setting the glass in front of her.

Darcy slides a card across the counter-top as she eyes the group, looking for the one dubbed ‘quiet’. All of the people at the table seem to have fairly robust physiques, each of them moderately if not more attractive, and there’s a bevy of personalities showcased in how they’re interacting with each other. A woman is laughing as she regales a corner of the table with a tale. Another man is egging on a blond man who is far too subdued with a sad slight smile on his face. Definitely the quiet one. Suddenly, his somber eyes snap up to lock with hers causing her to abruptly turns away.

“Keep the tab open.”

The bartender nods, taking the card she offers and pocketing it. Darcy tilts her head back as she downs the shot completely unconcerned, and the bartender sets another in front of her. Grinning in approval, she nods at him in thanks.

Looking at the shot glass, she realizes that she’s been staring into her drinks a lot more often than not lately. The nights at the club were blending into a mind numbing pattern. But really, the drinks were the easiest thing to quiet the frustrated thoughts that milled through her mind constantly.

_You could bring me so much favor, Darcy. What’s a few more months to the years you’ve been under Zola’s tutelage? I’m sure he could find a suitable choice for you..._

Suppressing a sigh, Darcy finds herself reminiscing over how she ended up in this position. How Father specifically brought her to Zola’s mansion so he could leave her while doing whatever task Zola had set for him. Her first time of seeing the private lane, the architectural beauty of his home, the man himself. Wide eyed in her exploration, young Darcy had been fascinated by the sheer amount of guards, everything easily twice the grandeur that she’d grown up in, which wasn’t remotely shabby. Noting the opulence to her father had just brought Zola out of the woodwork to thank her and insist father bring her every visit henceforth.

She took a shot to banish the thoughts away, the memories unpleasant. The alcohol warms her skin so she strips off her coat and spends a moment to watch the different groups in the room. There’s a sorority sister table, half a dozen of them discussing what to do with a ‘fallen sister’ and discussing how they should handle the shame of her slumming it with some guy they disliked. In another corner, a bunch of friends laugh together, obviously catching up on their busy lives, separated by careers. But her interest always floats back to the table with what she dubs internally as ‘Quiet’s table’, despite them being the rowdiest of the bunch. Quiet himself keeps glancing at her as if waiting for something, throwing her insides into a jangle as she looks away with a small smile into her glass. His form is entirely too tempting, broad shoulders and an eyebrow that quirks in question occasionally. Darcy is not one to be easily impressed by attractiveness, knowing how ugly a person can be underneath, but she can see how the rapport with his friends is always met with mutual respect. 

Eventually, the hour grows late enough that people begin to leave and Quiet’s table finally mellows out. There’s only a few guys left, one who seemed intent on ribbing Quiet in a subdued manner, who stares down into his beer, fingers twisting the glass as he listens. Whatever his friend says must work because he straightens in a resolute manner and nods with a grin to his friend. Darcy turns back to the bar with a mental shrug to herself and decides she might as well finish up her night. She’s careful to interrupt the steady shots of vodka with a glass of water, but she’s easily up in the nebulous fuzzy territory. Her body is used to the onslaught, so she motions four fingers up at the bartender. If she’s heading home soon, she might as well end on a bang. The bartender gives her an assessing glance before nodding, setting up the glasses on the counter and filling the glasses with a smooth glide of the bottle. 

“I’ve been waiting all night for your friends to show up,” a masculine voice says to her, the hint of body heat brushing against her leg as a man throws his own over the stool to sit. Turning, she sees Quiet is next to her. She arches an eyebrow with a coy smile, the effects of her drinking making her feel dangerously secure.

“Why? You wouldn’t have talked to me if they had?” Darcy tilts her head, letting her hair spill over her shoulder as she appraises him. She realizes that the risque little black dress she has on is far too fancy for his soft t-shirt and jeans look, but it doesn’t matter. She hands him two of the shot glasses before tossing back one of her own.

She’s glad to have the distraction. It’s been a long time since her last one, too paranoid to trust any of the men at Zola’s club and rarely being afforded the freedom to search out her own.

“Cheers, dude,” she clinks the second glass to his, which clues him in that he needs to play catch up and downs both as well quickly.

“Aren’t I supposed to be buying the drinks?” he asks making the most adorable grimace Darcy thinks she’s ever seen.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect your ego if anyone asks,” Darcy smirks, turning in her seat to face him more openly, offering her hand. “I’m Darcy, by the way.”

“Steve,” Quiet states his name with a lopsided smile that is so perfect she almost pinches herself. She refrains from reacting to the shiver of heat that passes through her when he takes her hand in a slight handshake. Steve’s stare doesn’t waver, letting the pads of his fingers slide out of her palm softly, and Darcy tries to ignore how her insides turn into goo.

“Well, Steve, what are you and your buddies over there celebrating?” she asks, the warmth from the shots spreading nicely through her body. It’s a soothing balm to the nervous energy skittering around her chest that instantly appeared at Steve’s introduction.

“I, uh, got into some hot water awhile back. It’s all been cleared up so they decided to treat me to a night out,” his eyes dart to the edges of the bar, not looking at Darcy. She is struck with an impression that there’s far more to it than he’s letting on, with his quiet attitude and somber glances, but shrugs.

“Grats,” she simply says, grinning.

“What about you?” he asks.

“Nothing about me to celebrate. This was just the first place I saw on my way home,” Darcy replies, lowering her voice and leaning towards him. Her hand motions around her before resting her hand near her collarbone. “It’s cozy, isn’t it?”

Steve glances down at her hand with lowered lashes, sight trying to respectfully skirt her cleavage and failing, and she can see his throat bob as he swallows. Darcy raises an eyebrow in question.

The moment hangs. A tap of uncertainty hits underneath her stomach, flooded with false confidence from the vodka, and she’s about to abort when he finally speaks.

“Did you want to get out of here?” His voice is low and absolutely delicious. 

“What, and have you miss your party?” she leans further to rest her arm on his shoulder and murmur into his ear. “Wouldn’t that be a shame.”

“Is that a yes or no?” he asks in a soft voice, hand coming up to grasp her forearm, squeezing gently. His gaze is unwavering. Steve is positively smoldering, his hand warming her skin with a firm yet delicate touch, and if it didn’t just set her panties aflame, she’d be lying.

“Yes,” Darcy breathes out and he releases her arm. “I’ll let you make your graceful exit.”

Steve agrees and downright saunters over to his friends to make his goodbyes. Darcy resists the urge to stare at his ass, motioning to the bartender who brings her a receipt to sign. Nodding at him in thanks, she signs quickly and tucks her card into her wallet. Steve is back and wearing a leather jacket before she anticipates it to help her into her coat.

As they exit the building, she can feel his friends’ eyes on her and hear a whistle of appreciation as the door closes behind them. Steve pretends to not notice his friends antics but is betrayed by the pink of his ears which just endears him to Darcy even more. He quickly hails a cab, the night still young enough that there are ones readily available, and opens the door for her to slide in. Climbing in next to her, he closes the door and gives an address, adroitly making that awkward conversation of ‘your place or mine?’ a non-issue.

Steve settles a hand on hers, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a soft motion. He looks out the window, eyes dark and expression serious. Darcy is amused, leaning her head on Steve’s shoulder so she can bite back her smile. He’s likely too shy to make out like a teenager in the back of a cab. She turns her mind to what exactly makes him tick to distract herself from the silence. Goodness knows she aimed to avoid the thoughts that plagued her all day and she isn’t about to concede to them now.

His hair looks a bit overgrown and her impulse control is three drinks back so she reaches up to brush her fingers against his ears. It’s a bit overgrown, similar to the short beard he wears.

“Letting it grow out?” she whispers.

“I probably will have to cut it soon- it wasn’t important while I was on leave,” he replied. Steve chuckles at the expression on her face, disappointment clear. A thought nags at her about the word _leave_, but she mentally tosses it aside as the car rolls to a stop.

Exiting the cab, she sees a large brick building, the kind with a doorman and everything. Steve leads her into the building and she feels him glancing at her, trying to read her mood and she smiles slightly in return. The elevator ride is where Darcy begins to feel the tension ramp up. She grips his elbow as the elevator jostles when it stops on the 5th floor.

“Thanks,” she says, leaning against him, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. He nods in response and Darcy realizes just how quiet he can be when he puts his mind to it. Steve leads her to suite 505 and unlocks the door. Before he opens it, he pauses. “Ready?” he asks.

Darcy sends him an amused look. “Yes,” she states firmly, realizing there’s more going on underneath the surface. She isn’t sure what it is, she doesn’t care, but the least she can be is as clear as possible.

Opening the door, he motions her ahead of him. Darcy walks into the dimly lit room, the thump of her heartbeat betraying the flutter of anticipation. Steve follows her inside and shuts the door. The only light visible is the large window against the opposite side of the room, showcasing the room with the streets ambient light behind gauze curtains. Darcy feels cocooned in the darkness, strangely comfortable for being in a home she doesn’t know with a man she just met.

Steve’s hand comes over her shoulder, gripping the front of her jacket to turn her and pull her roughly against him. Darcy emits a small sound of approval as he crashes his lips against her own, his hands releasing her coat to peel under the material and slide it off of her body. His lips are hot and insistent, throwing her mind into a whirl as she lets her coat fall to the floor, grabbing at his own t-shirt to try and pull it off. 

After he helps her, she takes the opportunity to trail her hand across his chest, a bit dumbstruck by the planes of his muscles. He dips his head to kiss her again, fingers splaying across her shoulders once more to pull the straps of her dress down, snagging her bra straps at the same time, the low cut of her dress straining against her breasts. Steve crowds her backward, prompting her to cling to his neck to not trip over hazards she’s unaware of.

“Oh, you’re trouble, aren’t you?” he breaks away with a whisper as he kisses down her jaw to her neck. He helps pull her arms out of the various straps, which prompt her breasts to finally break free of the fabric. She feels a couch hit the back of her knees that he pushes her onto before dropping to his knees and begin to map the territory with his lips. 

“You have no idea,” she moans in response, fingers immediately coming up to thread through his hair, feeling a bit like she’s being devoured. Darcy can’t stop touching him and wants to press into him, to feel possessed by something other than her own plagued mood. She shimmies her butt to the edge of the couch so she can wrap her legs around his hips, her heels falling off in the process, moaning once again as she can feel his arousal through his jeans.

Darcy slides her hands out of his hair and begins to work on his belt buckle. He pinches at nipple lightly in one hand as his mouth closes on the other and she arches in delight, distracted from her purpose to release him from his denim pants.

“Want to move this to the bedroom?” his voice is husky, and he returns to kissing around her chest in a reverent fashion.

“Definitely,” Darcy manages to undo his belt, working the button and zipper of his pants immediately. Palming his cock in her hand, she grins as he hisses a breath against her skin. 

“Good,” Steve finally says in a deep voice, cupping her ass suddenly and lifting her up. Darcy yelps in surprise, not expecting quite that level of athleticism, and relinquishes her grip on his cock. She grabs his shoulders as he stumbles out of his shoes and pants, carrying her through a doorway to spill them both onto a bed. He reaches to the nightstand, flipping on a small light there which causes Darcy to squint as it gives a nice warm glow to the room. Pulling out a pack of foils from the drawer, he sets to unwrap one and she raises an appreciative eyebrow. It’s rare to find one so prepared, after all.

Darcy gazes at his body with hooded eyes, memorizing the angles of his chest and arms and good lord, she cannot resist licking her lips as she stares at his dick. He’s concentrating on rolling the condom on just so and she bites a giggle back into a smile as she catches him sticking his tongue out between his lips. Steve glances at her, noting her humor with a suspicious squint, which causes her smile to broaden.

“Yeah, yeah, all right,” Steve leans over to smother her smile with his lips, tongue pressing into her mouth in a deep kiss. She grabs his neck with one hand as the other trails to his own nipples. He skims fingertips up the sides of her thigh, touching the edge of the pale blue panties at her hips, her dress hiked up her waist. Darcy whines into his mouth as he runs his hand along the seam of her panties, the pad of his thumb brushing against her clit through the thin material. Steve breaks away just far enough to throw one of her legs up and around so she can shimmy them off.

“I’d rip them off, but-” he starts, but she’s already out of them and spread out again, reaching up to pull him closer.

“I’ve been thinking of your body all night,” she says as she runs her hands over his chest and down to the base of his cock, wrapping her hand around him. “And fuck, do you _not_ disappoint.”

Steve nestles his hips in the crook of her thighs, hissing as she gently tugs on his cock a bit to rub against her entrance. Darcy wiggles her hips to encourage him further and he leans down to rest his forehead against hers. 

“Ready?” he asks in a low voice. She nods adamantly. He pulls her hand away and presses into her in one quick motion. 

Darcy immediately cries out, the sense of utter possession she’d be chasing soothed. Steve pauses, unsure of her reaction, but she nods her head and tries to tilt her hips to encourage him further. 

“More, Steve, you feel so good,” she whispers, caught up in her own thoughts of him inside her, him holding her, him ramming into her, and he isn’t even moving yet. 

“You feel pretty amazing yourself,” he chokes out, gripping her hips as he begins to slide out of her, looking for a steady rhythm to set. Darcy helps him, loving how each twist of her hip causes his cock to hit different places and make him grit his teeth. It’s beautiful torture that she suddenly gets caught up in, bringing one hand up to her breast to knead the flesh there, the other down to her clit. 

Steve’s gaze follows her hand on her breast, bringing one hand to the small of her back for more control on how he can fuck into her. 

“Oh, you like that I can see you touch yourself, don’t you? You want me to watch your pretty little hand play with your clit as my cock slides into you?” Steve’s words surprise Darcy and she moans as she can feel her orgasm building. She brushes her thumb against her clit, nodding as she bites her lip. 

“What’s that? I can’t hear you, Darcy,” his voice is dark and promising as his strokes into her body go off rhythm, teasing her. 

“I like you watching me,” she breathes out. “Watching me all night. I wanted you to watch me.” 

“I thought about your pretty little body, spread out for all of me to see,” he reaches down with his other hand to run his own thumb against her clit. “C’mon, Darcy, let me see you come all over my cock deep inside you.” 

Those words, punctuated with the rhythm of his cock and attention of his thumb grazing against her, pushes her over the edge. Her body goes taut, a wailing cry escaping her as he suddenly picks up the pace, ramming into her as he finds his own release just a few moments after her. 

Steve collapses onto his arms over her, Darcy caged underneath him as they catch their breath. She enjoys the feeling of being nestled in this safe space but it only lasts a moment before he pulls out and gets off the bed to walk to the attached bathroom. Rolling onto her side, she frowns at her dress still banded around her stomach and begins to set it right. 

“Want a drink?” he asks as he comes back into the room, still naked. She blinks. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a t-shirt. “Here. Wouldn’t want to wrinkle your dress.” 

He throws a t-shirt at her, which she catches easily and watches him leave the room. Darcy sees the glow of the refrigerator through the doorway and hears the thumps of him rummaging inside of it. Staring at the t-shirt in her hands a moment, she decides that it’s an invitation to stay. Unzipping her dress, which may be stretched out beyond saving anyway, she pulls it off to slip the t-shirt on. It’s soft and grey and she wonders at him owning so many of the same shirt. 

Steve comes back into the room, handing her a plastic water bottle. 

“Thanks,” Darcy mumbles, taking a long drink as he finds a new pair of underwear to put on. Setting the water down on the nightstand, she finds his relaxed attitude a bit unnerving. Her usual hookups - rare opportunities that they are - practically push her out of the door after they get what they want. But Steve's all nonchalant and obviously operating under the assumption that she’ll be staying. 

Steve climbs into bed, adjusting the covers and reaches around her to turn off the light. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulls Darcy down to rest into the cocoon of his arms. Sighing contentedly, he closes his eyes. 

Darcy blinks into the darkness, utterly flummoxed. The alcohol has long burned off and she forces herself to relax as to not alarm him and cause the situation to become super awkward. Being cradled in his arms is not unpleasant, not at all, and she’s actually surprised at how safe she feels. She feels oddly treasured, which is a mildly terrifying experience to find with a man she’s not expecting to see again. A breath escapes her as she realizes there’s nothing to do about it now, she’s in this position so she might as well enjoy it, and curls up into a ball that he spoons around more. Closing her eyes, she falls asleep with surprising ease. 


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy wakes with the heat of Steve’s breath at her ear. It’s still dark, the room cast in the low glow of a threatening sunrise, and the clock reads 6:18 on his nightstand. He’s hard as a rock against her ass, underwear obviously discarded, and she wiggles in response to show she’s awake.

“Good morning,” he mumbles, kissing at her neck which causes shivers to blossom down her spine.

“Morning.” Her voice is throaty. Steve shifts, throwing a leg over her as he presses her further up against the headboard. His hand skims her stomach to pull the borrowed shirt she’s wearing up and she helps him pull it over her head. Bouncing kisses over her collarbone, he starts to work down her upper chest and along the curve of her breast. Darcy hums in appreciation, but instead of stopping there, he neglects her nipples and continues along, kissing around her navel, down to her hip. The blanket thrown haphazardly earlier is kicked to the end of the bed as he makes his way to the top of her thigh.

Darcy is still a bit groggy as he spreads her legs, sitting between them. Steve’s hands wrap experimentally around the bones of her pelvis, the heat of his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh that divets around the bone. Tilting her hips to his satisfaction he then lays down, expression intent as she looks down at him with hooded eyes.

“Look at you. You’re so beautiful,” Steve mumbles, kissing around the inside of her thigh so he can arrange it over his shoulder. A pair of his fingers trace around her clit as he continues to kiss back up her leg, avoiding actually touching her the way she wants.

“Steve,” she breathes out, fisting her hands in the sheets. This is not the way she expected to be woken up, but fuck if she’s about to complain.

“Yes?” he whispers against her skin before blowing air against her sex which makes her shiver in anticipation. She can feel the grin on his face as he pauses a moment, causing her to squirm, and then fully leans in to lick up her opening. Darcy’s toes spread as the sensation hits her, his tongue gliding in between her folds before he drags it up to start a gentle rhythm of circling her clit.

Darcy can’t answer him as her mind goes blank, entire focus on his tongue and lips. One of Steve’s hands finds purchase in the previous territory of her hip, giving support as his other hand presses a finger inside of her. Fingers pumping on an irregular beat, his tongue flicks around the bundle of nerves once and Darcy whines as he pulls away. 

“Such silence. I don’t know if you like it,” he murmurs with such a salacious grin that she growls in frustration.

“Oh my fucking god,” groans out of her as he goes back to leaving small kisses on the inside of her thigh, fingers still pumping inside her at a slow pace.

“What was that?” he asks, laying a small lick on her clit in what feels like approval for her words. Darcy shivers, trying to regain any semblance of wit. 

“Oh god, you feel so _good_, fucking don’t stop,” she begins to babble. Steve immediately sets back into working her clit, sucking it gently into his mouth. “Did... did you think of this? When I was at the bar? Was this-”

Her breath hitches as he increases his pace, apparently agreeing with her inquiries. Darcy can’t help the whine that escapes her.

“I thought of you, and your cock. I want to taste your cock _so bad_, fucking _don’t stop_, oh, oh, Steve...” Darcy thinks of every lurid thing her mind wandered on in at that bar, the guilty words spilling from her lips. “Such a pretty cock, will taste so good between my lips...”

Steve’s fingers curl up inside her right as he sucks gently against the nub at his lips and Darcy’s mind spirals, lost in the sensation, her orgasm surprising her. She can’t help the way her heels dig into his back, thighs clamping around his ears as she tries to chase the sensation further with bucking of her hips. Steve’s grip on her hip tightens, holding her in place. He quietly continues to lick through her orgasm, tongue trailing to dip into her as he pulls his fingers out. As Darcy comes down, she relaxes and he breaks away with a slight inhalation of air, which causes her to redden a bit in embarrassment at her enthusiasm.

“Sor-” Steve interrupts her by climbing up to capture her in another kiss. Darcy can taste herself on his tongue and moans, not expecting to find it so appealing. It’s like she marked him, even if it’s so superficial, even if they will never see each other again. He’s pulled out of her some of the best orgasms of her life and she’s damn well going to make sure to taste his cock that she can’t stop thinking about.

Pressing on his shoulders, she manages to roll Steve onto his back and settle over his stomach. She breaks away, breathing hard as she tries to slow her racing pulse, hands splaying out over his chest.

“It’s always the quiet ones who surprise you, isn’t it?” She leans over to lick his ear, which makes him shiver slightly. “But you pulled out all of the things I want to do to you.”

“Who said I was quiet?” he asks in confusion, breath hitching as her hands run down his stomach to brush against his cock lightly.

“No one, you just seemed so with your friends. But appearances are obviously deceiving,” she says. “Not that I’m complaining.”

With that said, she slides down, tilting her ass to run along the topside of his erect penis which makes him tense. Darcy grins, hitching her hips over him as she continues to run her body along his. She feels his member bump along her belly to her sternum and runs her hands down to press her breasts together, his cock jutting out proudly as it hardens further.

“God, Darcy, what the fuck are you doing?” he grits his teeth. Darcy’s breasts are rather well endowed, so she rubs them together, wrapped around his cock. Leaning down, she leaves a small kiss on the top of his member’s head. 

Steve’s head bangs backward against the headboard as she looks up at him with a coquettish smile. She can imagine how she looks from his perspective, cock wrapped in the flesh of her breasts, nipples peeking between her fingers and her expression promising. Despite his attention to her moments prior, she’s finding herself becoming rapidly turned on again. The power over the situation is going straight to her head.

“What, Steve? What do you want me to do?” she strokes down his penis with her breasts, biting her lip with an eyebrow quirked. He hisses under his breath.

“I want you to wrap those pretty little lips around my dick. I want you to suck me like I’m the best thing you’ve ever had in your mouth in your entire life, and let me come all over your... your beautiful...” he stutters out, control wavering at the mental imagery. Darcy grins before releasing her breasts and take his cock into her mouth as far as she can manage.

Steve yells out, not expecting the sudden sensation, hips jutting up in response. Darcy tries to relax her jaw, managing to pull a bit more of his member into her mouth, hand wrapping around the base of him to pick up the slack. Moving in a coordinated effort, she swirls her tongue around his dick as she begins to pump him into her mouth.

“Fuck, Darcy, you feel so good,” he whispers reverently, hands coming to tangle in her hair, giving her an idea of the tempo he’d prefer. Darcy finds a rhythm and begins to bob her head in earnest, a choked sound emitting from Steve.

Darcy _adores_ that sound. She increases her pace, the tip of her tongue darting along the veins she can feel.

“I’m not going to last long if you keep this up,” he breathes out, looking down at her with hooded eyes. Humming a bit in approval, she glances up at him. Finding her gaze locked with his admiring one, she gives a gentle suck and raises her eyebrows.

Steve shivers.

She continues to slowly building a rhythm and his legs tense, breath hitching. Darcy knows he’s close, doubling her efforts of sucking and bobbing. He suddenly reaches down to pull her off of his cock, large hand wrapping around her own to continue pumping. A moment passes, and he groans as his release is found, cords of cum shooting out to hit Darcy’s chest and chin.

He collapses back against the headboard. Darcy sits back on her feet, using the pad of her thumb to pull the substance off her chin and darts her tongue out to taste.

“Fuck,” he simply mutters, staring at her through lidded eyes.

“If you hadn’t wanted me adorned, I would have sucked you dry,” Darcy grins, arching an eyebrow.

“Maybe next time,” he finally breathes out. The words trip in her mind as he snags his t-shirt off the floor and begins to wipe his contribution off her face and chest. The motion is so unexpectedly helpful it causes her to giggle. 

“Thanks,” she whispers and finds his lips attaching to hers before she can blink, sinking back against the bed. The kiss is gentle this time, tender, with his thumbs stroking her ears as he holds her close. She wonders if he can taste himself on her tongue. 

Steve breaks away to look at her. Darcy feels bare under his scrutiny, nonchalance a difficult feat when he’s looking at her so intently. His tucks her hair behind her ear and she smiles slightly.

“I like your smile,” Steve says softly. “I’d like to see it more often.”

Darcy blinks in surprise. A warmth spreads in her gut, smile broadening at the thought of seeing him again.

“Like that,” he says with his own smile before being interrupted by a generic ringing sound chimes from the other room.

Steve pulls away with a sigh. “I gotta take that, it’s probably work,” he says, climbing out of bed. “Be right back.” Darcy just nods, mind a bit too overwhelmed from the past few minutes to give a pithy reply.

Once he leaves the room, Darcy ponders Steve’s words. Because nothing had given her indication of _that_ \- tenderness and allusions to tomorrow she can’t entertain. The scene of the bar runs through her mind, of how attractive his reticence was in comparison to the men she usually dealt with, of how his dark glances seemed to promise satisfaction, of how his shyness mixed strangely with a determination that there was no way she could have declined him. Usually that meant one night and done, but Steve wants _more_? She reaches over to turn on the lamp, brightness causing her to squint and she looks around the room for her clothes, realizing how stark it is. The walls are completely bare and there’s a single photo on his tall dresser amidst the loose change.

"This is Rogers," Steve's voice is muffled from the other room. “Really, sir? They want me? After that inci-?”

His voice fades away as he moves through the apartment and Darcy feels a prick of anxiety in her chest. Something about Steve’s words unsettles her but Darcy can’t quite place her finger on exactly what, so she slides out of the bed to grab her dress. Pulling it on her body and carefully threading her arm through the sleeves, she examines the photo on his dresser. Steve’s face is one of the five men in the shot, another who she recognizes from the bar earlier, and they all look exceedingly proud of themselves in front of a lake. Struggling with her zipper, she abandons the task to find her underwear. Spying them bundled on the floor in the corner, Darcy picks them up to pull them up on her hips, and her eyes connect to an item laying thoughtlessly behind the large frame.

A police badge.

Horror drenches over Darcy.

_He's a fucking cop?_

Glancing at the door, she picks up the badge and it has the heft of _real_. Suddenly, the night before makes sense. The buddies celebrating him getting off on some unmentioned action, all similarly dressed in greys and blues and oh my fucking lord, how _stupid_ is she that she didn't see it? How much did she drink to look right passed all of the ribbing, the brotherhood? The camaraderie that is so similar to the guys that her dad and Zola employed, a kinship of guns and violence and blood, whether it's legal or not.

_Fuck_. Zola. He is _not_ going to be pleased if he has any inkling of her involvement with a cop... or entirely _too_ pleased and that doesn’t bode well either. She drops the badge back down with a _thunk_.

She peeks out of the door, seeing Steve getting off the phone and feels a stab of panic. Dashing into the bathroom, she closes and locks it for good measure.

_Yeah, I'm sure that'll keep him out as soon as he realizes who I am._

But... did he realize who she is? Darcy isn't exactly paraded around, being the daughter of an obscure crime lord, and Zola prefers to keep her hidden for his work in the club. She remembers all of the reasons that brought her to living with Zola, the deal she’d struck to get out of her father’s house. The trade off was that Zola rarely let her out, except to keep up appearances with her topside life, liking to keep her busy in the underground with marks in the club. 

Splashing water on her face, Darcy realizes just how _pathetic_ she looks. Hiding in the bathroom, hands shaking, caught in a situation she’s never imagined. She forgot herself for one goddamn minute, imagination wild with a future where she could get to know Steve properly, ignoring all of the complications of her life like a regular person for once and is instantly slapped back down to reality. An ache builds in her chest with the realization that this night can never be repeated. Darcy, hopefully, can get away with it this time, but there’s no hope for anything more.

A knock at the door makes her jump.

"You doin' alright?" Steve asks through it, sounding all sweet and concerned.

"Y-yeah," she croaks, realizing how long she's been in there. "I'll just be a minute."

He leaves and she knows she can't hide in his bathroom forever.

_Well, he must not know who I am, so I have to leave like any other one night stand would. I can totally do this, I play the men at the club all the time. I can do this._

Taking a deep breath, she brushes down the riot of her hair. Using the facilities quickly, Darcy plans out her escape as she washes her hands. She just needs to grab her shoes and her coat and get out of there. Cracking open the door, she aims for nonchalance as she heads into the living area. Instantly, she catches sight of an array of medals and other photos hung on the walls, showcasing his life from childhood all the way to the police academy. Darcy pauses, mind reeling at seeing evidence of Steve being the best boy scout imaginable. It’d been too dark to see any of these things last night, especially not while being wrapped up in the delicious man. 

By the window, Steve tucks his phone into his pocket, obviously taking the time to find a shirt and pair of pants while she was in the bathroom. His face brightens when he sees her, startling her into movement as she spies her coat thrown over a chair. Darcy beelines for it, trying to avoid thinking about what Steve might do if he knew about her job at Zola’s club. Which, while she hasn’t done anything technically - as far as she knows - illegal, she still feels like utter scum. Especially against the backdrop of all Steve’s achievements glaring down at her.

Steve watches her scurry for her coat. "Oh, you're heading out?" he asks, looking a bit confused.

"Uhhh, yeah, just let me grab my shoes and I'll be out of your way," she gives a weak smile as she trots over to the couch to look for her shoes. Fortunately, they're just under the coffee table. Getting on all fours, she feels her dress gape as she reaches for her heels. Glancing at him is a mistake, since he’s watching her curiously which makes her more nervous. She manages to get her shoes on her feet and clicks over to him, pulling her hair to the front of her shoulder and motioning to her back.

"Could you...?" she asks and he begins to pull the zipper up. His fingers brush against her skin and she can't help the shivers that appear on her arms because of it. This is the universe punishing her, she’s sure of it.

"It's pretty early, you want to grab breakfast or something?" Steve asks and she glances up at him, completely startled. He was actually earnest about his claims earlier.

"I'm sorry?" she finally manages to choke out.

"Breakfast. Pancakes? Scrambled eggs? I know a great place around the corner-" he begins but she's already shaking her head.

"No, uh, thanks. I have to run," Darcy says, leaning up to peck his cheek. “Thanks for-” she breaks off, uncertain of what to say. The amazing orgasms? The feeling of security and contentment she most definitely didn’t deserve? Steve’s still wearing a confused expression but she finally shrugs out, “-last night.”

Steve follows her to the door as Darcy practically flees his apartment, heels tapping a hurried staccato as she bounces on the balls of her feet to the elevator. Digging into her coat pocket, she finds her phone and winces at the time. The later the hour, the more likely she’s to be caught coming back in so late. As she smashes at the elevator button repeatedly, she can feel Steve’s eyes on her from his doorway. 

Fortunately, the lift appears fairly quickly due to the early hour and Darcy enters it. Pressing the button for the lobby, the last thing she sees of apartment 505 is Steve’s frowning face.

Leaning against the wall, she breathes a sigh of relief, knowing half of the battle is done. She just needs to get well on her way into Zola’s territory before they realize where she is. Darcy knows Zola is not a stupid man, he’s likely keeping tabs on her, and it’s entirely possible they know where she’s been all night. It’s also entirely possible that he’d find her even more useful.

Pulling on her coat, she makes it out of the building. Fear uncoils in her stomach the more distance she gains, not caring about her rather walk-of-shame appearance when she hears Steve's voice yell out.

"Darcy!"

_Shit!_

Darcy glances around nervously, noting that she’s not in an area that Zola’s men tend to cover. The street is bathed in that glow of early morning, blues and greys and a hint of humidity in the air from the rain the previous night. It’s fairly quiet with few people, a bright glow of an all night diner on the corner, the kind with large windows and a man always sipping a cup of coffee at the counter. Steve runs up to her, looking like he hurriedly threw on shoes to catch up with her. He’s out of breath and holds up a hand for a moment to keep her attention.

“Sorry... took the stairs...” he pants out for a moment before getting his bearings.

Darcy looks around again, exasperated at Steve’s perseverance. No one is paying them any attention, but that doesn’t mean no one will notice this interaction. She wouldn’t put it past Zola to find out about it somehow.

“Did I forget something?” she asks and he shakes his head, stepping into her space.

“No.”

“You’re really bad at one night stands, aren’t you?” she says without thinking. Steve huffs out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Is that what you-” he cuts off with a shake of his head, obviously discarding the thought and forging on with his initial intent. “I want to see you again.”

“What?” Darcy yelps, surprised at his candor.

“Can I see you again?” Steve tries again, looking a bit more unsure. It’s a strange moment as Darcy can remember his expression a half-hour prior, all smug and devious and _wonderful_ as he ate her out. The fact that he’s so uncertain is terribly endearing. “I know we don’t know each other that well, or at all really, but I just feel like we could-”

“...no,” Darcy whispers out, really wanting to say yes, but she isn’t that stupid.

Steve frowns, looking unconvinced. A beat passes, the word _no_ standing and hurt finally blooms in his eyes. Darcy feels guilt instantly set in and makes the monumentally stupid choice to keep talking.

“Look, Steve, you’re a great guy but... I’ll ruin you. I’m not trying to be melodramatic or anything, but really... I’m sorry, I can’t explain, I’m just-” 

“...I understand. Have a good life, Darcy,” he says. His voice is rough as if he’s not entirely sure what to make of the situation, which Darcy can’t blame him. She can’t quite believe finding herself declining his offer after such a fantastic night, and she knows exactly why they can’t even attempt to meet again. It doesn’t help the fact that the regret stabbing her heart is growing, outpacing the anxiety of Zola’s men finding her in the company of a cop, 'on leave' or not.

Steve turns away. Darcy bites her lip as she watches him walk back into his building. A beat passes before she looks down at her feet, they are numb, the chill of the morning settling into her heels as she finally shakes herself into motion. She bumps into someone, not looking at them as she mutters an apology, their response lost on her.

A bitterness fills her up, hating her upbringing, hating her life, the same pain that had brought her to the bar in the first place. Darcy wraps her coat tightly around herself. It’s a poor substitute against the memory of being wrapped in Steve's arms, but helps her maintain her composure on the public street.

After all, Darcy can’t escape her life. And it only hurts her to dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So. The entire world after this fic is _so big_, guys. Like, I'm still wading through it and figuring out how all the pieces come together. Hell, the world _before_ this fic is huge and give all of the motivations for what's going on for later is just mind boggling. I am actively working on it but it's slow work and hopefully I can cobble it together for posting soon. I just have been sitting on this smut for over a year and figured what better way to get motivation than to post this section that would be separate anyway since I tend to keep my smut pulled away from main stories.
> 
> Apologies for making his shirts grey. I've been corrected that cops would probably have a plethora of white shirts, but grey is what came out so I'll stick with it. :P
> 
> In any case, there _is_ a happy ending for Steve and Darcy, it's just much further into the future. Hopefully y'all not too disappointed that it's not right here.
> 
> If you want to reach out to me, here's my [tumblr](https://snailsarecute.tumblr.com/) and also a [MCU discord server](https://discord.gg/yqw7uhJ) that I'm in.
> 
> Thanks for reading. <3


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